


Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mrs.

by BirdBirdBirdBird



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Bad Parenting, Child Neglect, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, F/M, Fix-It, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Marriage, Multi, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier-centric, Soft Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22398799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdBirdBirdBird/pseuds/BirdBirdBirdBird
Summary: "When we get married, whose last name are we taking?"It's a question that's haunted them for years."What do you mean, when?" Stan asked, peering down at Richie, who was happily cuddled between Bev and Stan's legs with a blanket across his lap."Stan, we all fought the embodiment of hell together, I assumed marriage was a given." Richie shrugged.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Ben Hanscom/Eddie Kaspbrak/Beverly Marsh/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 13
Kudos: 219





	Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mrs.

**Author's Note:**

> *waves my little "Richie Tozier-centric" flag* PROJECTING!!!!!! PROJECTING ON 40 YEAR OLD MEN!!!! WOOOOOO!!! 
> 
> lmao no this isnt a projection fic it's just me being stupid and wanting to get married at 16 and these losers deserve the world and to be HAPPILY MARRIED. 
> 
> THIS IS POLY LOSERS!!!! please dont give me gay/bi richie shit in the comments. I literally enjoy these dumbasses being in love w each other so I do what I gotta do.

"When we get married, whose last name are we taking?" 

It's a question that's haunted them for years.

"What do you mean, when?" Stan asked, peering down at Richie, who was happily cuddled between Bev and Stan's legs with a blanket across his lap. 

"Stan, we all fought the embodiment of hell together, I assumed marriage was a given." Richie shrugged. 

Stan frowned for a moment. "Touché. Why are you thinking of that now?" 

Richie was uncharacteristically quiet. "Thinking about how I'm tired of being a Tozier." He mumbled.

Stan knocked his knee against Richie's shoulder. "How come, angel?" He wiggled and slid down to sit next to Richie. Richie tugged the blanket out from beneath Stan and threw it over him as well.

"Nothing left to it. A stage name, sure, but both my parents are dead and I just..." he bit his lip. "Don't want it." 

"I feel like theres more to the story," Mike's hand slid into Richie's hair from his seat, where he had replaced Stan. "You can tell us anything, Richie, you remember that, right?"

Richie snorted. "As if you ever let me forget it." He rubbed his jaw. He had been leaning to one side, unconsciously, and now his jaw was offset. "Ah, I don't- I dont know. The Tozier's were a weird name to toss around in Derry. My parents, they were good people, but we just weren't... right. They weren't abusive by any means but... I didnt know them." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "I don't know the Toziers. My parents were literally always gone, they couldnt even make it to my graduation because they were somewhere in California for "buisness"." He shifted uncomfortably. "I guess I just... want something I can call my own. Something I actually know." 

Ben smiled at him and gave his arm a quick squeeze from where he was curled up on the loveseat. "Aw, Rich. I was looking forward to being Mr. Ben Tozier!"

Richie laughed and prodded him. "Richie Hanscom sounds so much better." 

Eddie's socked foot found the side of Richie's glasses from where he laid in Bill's lap. "You're right, though, Richie. You'll have to keep Tozier for your stage name, it's on everything you've ever fucking made."

Richie groaned. "I know. I'm pretty sure that's also like, separate paper work which I'm PISSED about." He tipped his head back to look at Bev. "Richie Marsh sounds kinda..." 

"Wet." She laughed, patting his forehead. "I've... thought about being Beverly Hanscom before."

"Cute!" Bill sighed, right as Richie said "gross." 

"Fine, fine, hm..." Mike looked at Eddie. "Mike Kasprak." 

"Mmmm go fuck yourself," Eddie waved a hand. "I'm ditching Kasprak as soon as I fucking can." 

Richie raised his drink, a little slopping onto his wrist. "May Sonia Kasprak rot in Neibolt." He took a swig. "Okay. Hm." 

"Stanley Denborough." Stan chimed in. "Sounds pretty okay, huh?" 

Bill's lip twitched in a smile. "As much as I love that, hearing more than four letters as your last name is a little intense." 

Richie shrugged his shoulders, feeling a little stiff with the winter cold. "Richard Hanlon sounds kinda nice." He offered. "If Mike wants that, I mean." 

Mike pondered it for a moment with a smile. "I dont know. It sounds lovely, but I'm kind of... a reverse Richie. My name is... all I've got of my parents." He was still smiling. "I dont know if it makes me selfish or not, but... I kinda just want the Hanlons to belong to my parents." He realized he was reminiscing and blushed. "Ah, sorry, that's rude, sorry guys-" 

Many of them began to assure Mike he wasn't being selfish, that his actions were good. 

"So, what, you'd hyphenate your name?" Richie had turned around, knocking the blanket aside, much to Stan's annoyance. "Hanlon... Hanlon-Hanscom?" 

Ben crinkled his nose. "Too H-y." 

They spent a little longer bickering over how their names would sound with each others surnames. Beverly Hanlon, Stanley Hanscom, Richie Denborough. Richie couldnt stop smiling, little giggles finding their way out of his throat.

Eddie peered down at him. "What's so fucking funny, dickwad?" There wasnt any heat behind it, it was more of an inside joke now more than anything. That fateful night at the Jade. If anything, it was spoken lovingly.

Richie giggled again, a precious sound the other Losers reveled in. "Sorry, sorry, it's just really nice to sit here and talk about last names. I really get to belong here, huh?" 

Stan leaned over and hugged Richie from behind, kissing his cheek. "Together forever, Trashmouth. You're ours and we're yours." 

Suddenly, Eddie sat up, almost hitting his forehead on Bill's chin, and exclaimed, "Eddie Tozier!" 

Richie blinked in surprise a few times before shooting him a "we talked about this" look. 

"No, no, hear me out," Eddie held his hands up in defense. "You're a celebrity, which still fucking baffles me, so you can't just change your name after all this time. Everybody'll still just call you "Tozier" anyhow." 

Richie bit his tongue before nodding. "Yeah, but I'll just legally change it and keep the stage name." He argued. "Theres nothing to the Tozier name, Eddie." 

"Then make something!" Eddie clapped his hands together. Richie flinched, unnoticed by the others. "Let us mean something to the Tozier name. Let-! Let me mean something to the Tozier name, to you." He held out his hand to Richie, who rested his much larger hand in his. 

Richie blinked back tears, sliding his other hand under his glasses to stop them. "Shit. Shit, Eds, stop it." 

"Eddie Tozier," Eddie squeezed his hand. 

"William Tozier sounds pretty fitting." Bill chuckled. "I like it." 

Mike ran a hand through Richie's mess of mops in his head. "Mike Tozier, anybody?" 

Stan snuggled into Richie's neck. "Stanley Tozier sounds like a dream." 

Rich still had his eyes closed but he could practically feel Ben beam. "I always wanted to be Benjamin Tozier." 

"Beverly Tozier sounds like a beautiful mistake, waiting to happen." Bev laughed.

Richie let out of quiet cry, maybe a laugh? He didnt know. "Guys, fuck-" he sniffled. "Stop it." He held his head in his hands.

Eddie let go of his hand. Richie let out a noise of discomfort. "Calm down, I'm right here." Eddie slid down into Richie's lap. He pressed his fingers into Richie's hands, pulling them away from his face. "Hey, hey, look at- no, look at me." He held Richie's face in his hands, thumbs swiping away tears. "I'm sorry, Im sorry, Rich, I shouldn't have said anything, I just- I just thought you wanted something better." 

Richie shook his head, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "No, I love it," he pressed one hand to Eddie's as it caressed his face. "I love it so much, I-" he choked off, a tiny sob holding his throat. 

Eddie's eyes filled with guilt. "You said stop it, baby, I don't understand. Why are you crying?" 

Richie laughed, a wet sound. "I don't know! I don't know why, I love it so much, I-I don't know-" he hiccups again, shoulder bumping Stan. "I don't know why I'm crying." 

Stan ran his fingers along Richie's bicep. "You said it yourself. You finally have somewhere to belong and names to show for it." He kissed Eddie's hand, which was meant to be Richie's cheek, but whatever. "Also, not to ruin the moment, but I think I saw you cry maybe twice in the 13 years I knew you, so I think you're a little emotionally constipated."

Richie snorted, shocking Eddie into letting go of him. "Oh f-fuck you, constipated?!" He laughed. "What the fuck, Uris?!"

Stan giggled as he tipped back. "Aht! Its Tozier, to you!" He wrapped his arms around Richie's neck and pulled him down, the two plopping onto the carpet. 

Richie's hip hit the cold, hardwood floor that wasn't carpeted. "Ah, shit, cold, cold!" He wiggled, either trying to shimmy his body up or his shirt down. Neither worked. 

Bill rolled his eyes, throwing a pillow down on them. "Yes, emotionally constipated, I literally don't remember ever seeing you cry."

Bev raised her hand. "No, no, I saw once! When he saw Eddie's mom was wearing her wedding ring still!" 

The whole room burst into laughter, Richie thumping his head back against the ground with cracking laughter. "Oh god, oh fuck. That was devastating." He thought back further. He knew he had cried in life, maybe a little later, but it had happened. Richie decided against bringing up the times he'd cried alone at night in a rancid motel. "I cried when Bev got her first solo fashion line up." He noted.

"Okay, but who didn't?" 

"Mike, fuck off!" Eddie whined. "I... oh my god, I think the last time I cried was when I got stabbed-" 

"NOPE!" Richie shouted. "NUH UH, NOPE, NONE OF THAT!" He sat up, punching Eddie fairly hard in the thigh. "NOPE!"

Eddie shrank into himself. "Ow, asshole!" He snapped. He kicked out his other foot and knocked Richie's glasses off. "Okay. Okay, I get it." There was a silence that settled over them, almost like a fresh snow. Not deep enough to be packed down, light enough to flow away with a speedy breath. "Think we'll ever be able to talk about it?" Eddie asked finally.

Ben rubbed his jaw. "In time. But... maybe for now, can we just look ahead? Look at our clownless future?" 

Mike smiled lovingly at him. "To the future of the Losers Club." He raised his water cup. Nobody else had cups, but they raised various household objects in a toast. 

"I now pronounce us Mr. And Mr. And Mr. And Mr. And Mr. And Mr. And Mr. And Mrs. Tozier. We may kiss the Richie." Bill pronounced in his best officiant voice. 

Richie laughed and leaned up on his knees so he was within smooching distance. "Fuck yeah!" 

"Bill, darling, you added a Mr." 

"Did I?"

"Yeah, dumbass."

"Ah, my bad." 

Richie folded his arms and laid them on the couch, resting his face about halfway into his arms. He had his eyes closed, but he could tell it was Bev who began to tussle his hair, stroking the curls and twirling them into more prominent bounces. "I love you guys." He mumbled. 

Stan ran his fingers up Richie's back. "What, baby?" 

Richie looked up, eyes suddenly heavy with sleep. "I said I love you guys." 

Bev smiled. "We love you too. Is somebody sleepy?" 

Richie nodded, giggling a little. "I'm a sleepy boy." He laid his head in his arms again. "Sleepyyyyy..." 

"So should we go to the bedroom or-?" 

"Couch fort!" 

"Bill, no-" 

"COUCH FORT!" 

Richie looked up tiredly at Bev- what the fuck, where the hell did his adrenaline go? "Couch fort?" He asked politely.

"...you motherfuckers, yeah, alright." Bev stood up and began to sort the cushions and pillows. 

"Beverly fucking Tozier, everybody!" Ben whooped, clapping. The other boys joined in and she took a few mock bows. 

Richie pinched his face, gripping the soft skin. "Oh my fucking god. I'm never gonna get tired of hearing that. Wow. Can we... can we even legally get married?" 

"Can you legally fight a space clown?" Stan asked.

"...yes?" 

"Then yes!" Bill declared. "We'll go to the marriage house tomorrow, baby!" 

Eddie elbowed him. "Slow down there, Bev and I's divorces arent even finalized." 

Bill Draper himself over Eddie. "We're aboveeee the lawwwww." 

Richie watched as they argued over what was law and what wasnt, sleep threatening to wash over him as he tiredly heaved himself to sit where Bev had sat. Mike laid an arm around him. "Hiya, Mikey Hanlon-Tozier." He said softly.

Mike gently kissed him. "Hello Richie Tozier. You tired?" 

Richie rubbed his eyes. "Very. I think crying just drains everything out of me. I should do it less." He chuckled.

Mike offered his chest. "Take a little rest, dear. I'll tell you when the couch fort is ready."

Richie nodded. "Sweet-" he yawned and flopped forward onto the larger man. "G'ni'h Toz'er." He mumbled.

A low, rumbly laugh vibrated in Mike's chest. "Goodnight, Tozier." 

Richie let himself slip into sleep with the lullaby of Mike's heartbeat. He would never confess it, but if the right person asked him, he might just tell you he dreamt of six tuxes and a wedding dress that night. But, of course, that's just an idea, a hypothetical. 

And a beautiful one at that.

**Author's Note:**

> Validation keeps my blood flowing and my skin glowing B^] 
> 
> Hope yall enjoy me not knowing how to fucking end my writing


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